This Sweetness
by Kora
Summary: sweat, tears, lights, shouting, heart-pounding, pure exhilaration. a reflective piece set during those surreal moments during the celebration of the titans' state championship victory.


_Disclaimer—all characters belong to Disney, all lyrics belong to jimmy eat world.  I highly recommend downloading the song "sweetness" by jimmy eat world and playing it while reading before reading this fic, as it completes the desired effect of this story.  It's not totally necessary, though.  aside from your usual download places, this song can be found at jimmyeatworld.net.  if you still experience problems trying to find the song, email me and I'll see what I can do.  Thanks!  --kora.  _

_Are you listening?_

_Whoa…_

His arm would have begun to ache minutes ago had not the blissfulness of the situation banished every feeling save a tingling sensation from his body.  He beamed at the other man  holding the trophy above their heads with him.  This was the moment they'd been striving for ever since the team decided to get along, ever since there was even the slightest chance that something like this might be possible.

Sure, he'd won a title or two back in North Carolina.  But there was something greater about this trophy, a symbol that could not be reproduced in any other number of titles.  This year was a year that he'd never be able to repeat in his career.  

The man at his side then said something, a warm smile spreading across his face.  He smiled back in return, and replied, "you're a Hall-of-Famer in my book."  And he was, just like the rest of the team.

_Sing it back_

_Oh…_

If you'd told him right before the season began that he'd be standing here, lifting the 1971 Virginia State Football Championship trophy into the air with the new head coach, he wouldn't have believed you.  Not that he didn't think he had a great group of guys, he did, but at the beginning of the season the Hall of Fame was the only thing he had in his sight.

It'd been a whirlwind season.  He'd been tempted to leave, but something held him back.  A reluctance to abandon what he'd started, loyalty to those he saw almost as his own children, and then, slowly, a trust and faith in the one he'd come to call partner.

Now, losing the Hall of Fame meant nothing.  A glory he'd have to hold alone could not compare to the pride and honor he felt to be just a part of this triumphant season, culminating all in this moment.  He turned and with a grin addressed the one who'd given the Titan machine its starting kick.  "I know football, but what you did with those boys…you were the right man for the job, Coach."

_String from your tether unwinds_

_Up and outward but only to bind _

It was relatively quiet.  Canny screaming cheers emanated from the television set, and he could vaguely hear a nurse or two clapping from the hallway.  Still…it was a quieter way than one would expect to spend celebrating on what could be the largest victory of a life time.  He held his arms out high, soaking in the victory.  The triumphant words echoed and swirled around in his brain.  _We won.  We won.  We did it._

Later other thoughts would come, bittersweet, perhaps even a touch spiteful, but that was later and this was now.  Nothing could ruin this crystalline moment.  As for the later…it didn't matter.  Any spite would fade.  They'd won.

_I was spinning free (whoa…)_

_With a little sweet and simple numbing me_

No words could accurately describe this moment, this feeling.  No words he possessed, anyway.  He hadn't had any hopes for this season, either.  The integration of schools could easily ruin the chances of any sports team, if those forced together refused to act as a whole.  But they'd shocked everyone, including themselves, when they came tog4ether.  And managed to stay that way.

Even more amazing was his emergence as a leader.  He'd expected to be a leader of the game, of football, but not of a social statement.  But him and Superman…as soon as they came together, the rest of the team did as well (mostly).  He thought briefly of their fallen comrade, and smiled at what he must be doing and thinking now.  The thinking didn't last long.  The energy crackling 'round them was too intense.  He whooped and beamed through the beads of sweat dotting his face.  Now was the time to celebrate.  

_Tell me what do I need (oh, oh)_

_When the words lose their meaning (oh, whoa, oh)_

He was hot, sweaty, grimy, and overall disgusting, but that was okay.  He was used to that, from the football camps and all the other sports he'd participated in back in warm California.  Besides, how could anyone possibly think of hygiene at a time like this?

They'd won!  Moving to down-home Virginia, he hadn't even dreamed of a starting position on the local football team, let alone a starting position on the champion football team!

He whooped and hollered, screamed and shouted in pure, unbridled joy.  He'd been an outsider too, at the beginning.  Now he was surrounded by a family of brothers, all with one common thought and purpose: celebration.

_Stumble until you crawl (whoa…)_

_Sinking into sweet uncertainty_

Dirt stained his bright white uniform, in some parts turning into almost a muddy paste where sweat mingled with dirt.  Forget all the babbling about, "at the beginning of the season, I'd never expected to see myself here."  Even after they'd won their previous game, opening the door to States,  he hadn't expected to find himself whooping with the guys in a dirty uniform.

He'd let his pride get the better of him.  Again.  That was something he really needed to work on.  It had almost cost him a non-bench warming role in their final game, the biggest game of the season.

If it hadn't been for the generosity of a teammate, he would be here celebrating in a clean uniform.  But the Titans were closer than that.

_If you're listening_

_Whoa…_

The bench really wasn't as bad as it was often made out to be.  Sure it may mean minimal participation in the game, but under certain circumstances, it's the best option.  Right now, with the wetness and the cheering and the euphoria, he was glad he'd stayed on the sidelines for almost the entire season.

If he'd remained in a starting position, they wouldn't be where they were now.  That was worth the price of a smooth wooden bench as opposed to the playing field.  He jumped again and again, each time higher.  If he could get high enough, he might be able to raise his physical posture all the nearer to his emotional.  They'd done it.  They'd done it.  IT didn't matter if he'd barely played.  He was part of the team, and the team won.  

_I'm still running away (oh, oh)_

_I won't play your hide and seek game (oh, whoa, oh)_

A midseason injury had seemingly put him out of any significant participation (if any at all) for the rest of the year.  He'd first prayed for his hand to heal, but that didn't feel right.  His prayers soon switched to guidance for the team and coaches and maybe, maybe, a chance for himself to have some role to play before the year was through.  He didn't expect anything momentous, just the opportunity to help his team in any way.

God must have been listening, for his prayers were answered tonight.  In the artificially lit stadium, the Titans pulled another trick out of their mythological box of magic, one that gained them the victory.  And he'd gotten to be a part of it.

He wasn't sure exactly what position he'd played that night, for that heart-pounding sixty seconds, but it didn't matter.  Nothing else in his life therefore could possibly match passing that line of painted white grass cradling a conical-shaped pigskin ball.  

He looked up to the heavens and offered another prayer of thanks before joining his teammates, brothers, in a wild cheering party.  

_What a dizzy dance_

_Oh…_

This had to be the most exhilarating moment of his life.  He hadn't hoped for anything more than an after school excuse to vent his frustrations by barreling into people, all the while getting a crowd to cheer on his violent tendencies.  That was the strange thing about football (and most other sports): it's the only place in life he could think of where he was encouraged to hit people.

But this was far better than that.  They'd won the State Championships!  A small smile passed over his face: he was probably the only one in this whooping group that could think of something else even greater to celebrate, something he'd expected even less than winning that shiny golden trophy.

He was going to college!  Sure, it seemed routine for most, but not him.  No one in his family ever had before.  This football season, it seemed, had brought him more than a stress-release program, it had brought him another family.  Breaking from his reflections, (he didn't have them often or for long because they gave him headaches) he joined his team in a spontaneous and rousing shout of, "TITANS!"

_This sweetness will not be concerned with me_

She darted and weaved her way through the masses of cheering fans pouring into the field.  Any remaining feelings of jealousy, want, and resentment vanished the second the goal line was crossed.  Who needed the Hall of Fame?  This was way better.

She leapt into her father's arms and shouted in excitement with all her might.  For only a fleeting moment she wished she was male and older, so she could be part of the team, really a part of the victory.  This also vanished the second she looked around and caught the beaming glances sent her way, informing her that she was a part of what had created their triumph.

She hugged her father then jumped down to scamper off and become lost in the sweetly spinning, swirling, and screaming mess of celebration.

_No, this sweetness will not be concerned with me_

Sweat, tears, dirt, screaming, whistling, cheering, lights flashing, elation, pride, trembling limbs…and one trophy at the center of it all.  Not quite the trophy, though, but what it symbolized: the struggle against not merely the opposing team, but against hundreds of years of what had been, and in many places still was, prejudicial tradition.  It all summed up in this one series of moments: surreal, tangy, and nearly perfect.

_No, this sweetness will not be concerned with me_

The End


End file.
